Liberation - Book One
by carolyn
Summary: Modo embarks on a new life off Mars


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LIBERATION

THE TWO ARE THREE ONCE MORE

Sequel to DarkRider

by

carolyn 

[based on the Biker Mice From Mars series]

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**BOOK ONE**

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*STAVE ONE*

~Back On Mars~

Just on, the other side of the Elysium Rise, some Sandraiders were lolling around on the ochre-coloured sands of a Martian dune as they surveyed the surrounding territory. Suddenly, their attention was drawn to a flash of light appearing against the approaching twilight. Two Martian mice and one Earth woman on motorcycles appeared below and roared to a halt. 

"At last. Home." said Vinnie as he took off his helmet and deeply inhaled the Martian air. "I can't believe it. We're here. It smells so good."

"I second that, bro. Nothing smells as good as home." Throttle replied kneeling down and sifting the shiny sand through his fingers. He stood up, looked over the sands and said to himself. "I'm home, Carbine. And I ain't never gonna leave it, or YOU, again."

Charley looked around. Although she'd been here before, for a moment, just a moment, she felt daunted. Now that she arrived as a permanent resident, how was she going to adjust? There would be no pizza, no blue sky, no credit cards, no---no _Seinfeld!_ She felt a last minute twinge of regret. _'Was I too hasty?'_ She thought. _'Do I really want to spend the rest of my life here?'_ As she looked over the red sands at the two moons on the horizon, she felt two powerful, warm and furry arms go around her waist. A soft muzzle caressed her cheek as a soft whisper warmed and caressed her ear. "Charlene, I know it's not like Earth. And, I know it will be hard on you trying to adjust, but I promise to do my best to make you happy. If it's too hard on you, I'll get you back to Earth somehow. I'll get you back and---" Vinnie started softly. 

All doubts immediately flew out of Charley's mind. This is where she wanted to be. Here with the mouse she loved. She turned and gave Vinnie a long loving kiss. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I want to be with you. Nothing else matters." she replied as her green eyes sparkled against the contrasting Martian sky.

Vinnie held her at arm's length, and looked at her lovingly and longingly. "I love you so much, Charlene. You have changed my life."

"Not too much of a change, I hope." Charley winked. "I won't know you." She continued with a laugh, and the while mouse smiled broadly.

"You'll be okay, Charley. We'll see to it." Throttle stood off a little ways, with his arms folded. But, he quickly opened them as Charley ran over and gave him a big a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Throttle. With you and Carbine as friends, I know I'll be okay." Now, it was Throttle's turn to smile broadly. Charley put her helmet on, as she returned to Vinnie's bike. "So, let's go find---"

A laser shot cut Charley off mid-sentence. The three turned as one and saw the sand raiders quickly bearing down on them. "Looks like we'll have to cut the well wishes short, bros. We got company." Yelled Throttle, as he jumped and revved his bike in one smooth move.

Vinnie jumped on his bike, wrapped his tail around Charley and plopped on the rumble seat. The two bikers took off for the Rise, as their powerful Martian bikes left a cloud of dust trailing behind them. Even going blast for blast with the raiders, the mice couldn't shake them off. In addition, because of their high speed, Charley couldn't reach the rocket launcher on the side of Vinnie's bike. "Hey, Throttle, They're gaining on us!" yelled Vinnie.

"Let's do maneuver number si---" More laser blasts filled the air and interrupted Throttle's strategy. Through the whirling sand, he could see a MMAR unit coming toward them.

"Here comes the cavalry!" yelled Throttle. "And I think my lady is in the lead."

Carbine's unit roared down a high hill and dispatched the raiding party with ease. Out numbered, and out-gunned, they turned tail and headed back down to the dunes. When Carbine saw Throttle, she jumped off her bike, tore off her helmet, and leaped into his arms just as he dismounted his bike. They held each other for quite awhile, relishing the moment and then kissed just as long, as Carbine's tail wrapped itself around Throttle's leg, and Throttle's wrapped around Carbine's waist. "You're back." Exclaimed Carbine, with eyes shining.

"Looks that way, general. We're home." replied Throttle, not in any hurry to remove his arm or tail from around Carbine's waist.

"For how long, this time?" she asked.

"For good, my Lady. For good. 

"Are you serious? You really mean it this time?" 

"I really mean it this time Carbine." replied Throttle quietly as he stroked her face with his hand.

At that point, Carbine looked over Throttle's shoulder. "Hello, Vinnie, --- CHARLEY!"

The two females gave each other a big hug and a pat on the back. "Girlfriend, I am so glad to see you. You'll be my only friend on this planet." Charley said.

"YOU'RE staying here?" Carbine looked at Vinnie in surprise. "This must mean you two are...?"

Vincent blushed slightly, grinned, and put his arm around his lady. "Yea, Charley-girl's gonna take a chance on me."

Charley laughed. "Do I have a choice? The transporter's been destroyed, remember?"

"Destroyed?"

"Yep, Earth is Plutarkian-free." laughed Throttle

"Mouse-free too." said grinned Vinnie." 

"And free of one bike jockey." countered Charley, also with a smile.

"Oh wait until---" Carbine stopped mid sentence and looked around. "Hey, where's Modo?" There was complete silence in the desert. The air became still and the silence so deafening, you could cut it with a knife. Throttle dropped his smile, Vinnie's antennae drooped, and Charley's eyes started to well up. "Uh---" started Vinnie. 

"What? Oh, no! Oh, don't tell me. What happened to him?" Carbine looked from Charley to Vinnie and back to Charley again.

Throttle came up behind Carbine, took off his glasses and put his arms around her. "It's a long story, Carbine." he said, quietly.

"No. He's dead. Those fishy---" began Carbine, clearly upset.

Throttle shook his head and took Carbine's chin between his fingers. "No, he's still alive."

Carbine fell into Throttle's arms and let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank---"

"Sir." interrupted one of the soldiers, saluting as he approached. "We'd better be getting back to Command Central. "We're like sitting mice out here."

"Good point, soldier." Carbine saluted back as she regained her composure. We'll talk about this later." Carbine looked at Throttle. "Everything is all right?" she inquired as she noted the slight change in his expression.

"Yeah, everything's all right." Throttle said sadly.

Carbine turned to her unit and yelled. "LET'S MOVE IT, MEN."

~ ~

"Well as my fur molts and sheds, look what the recon unit dragged in." Commander Stoker, the heroes old unit leader said. "What brought you boys back here?" he added with a slightly crooked smile.

"Karbunkle's transporter." returned Vinnie as he and Stoker punched and socked each other.

"Oh no, not again." Charley rolled her eyes. "Is this going to happen every time these two see each other?"

"Why, hello, pretty lady. Welcome to Mars. You guys visiting or what?" Stoker smiled innocently at Charley as he sneaked a punch into Vinnie's mid-section.

"We're home for good, Stoke." Throttle said.

"You're kidding?" Stoker turned towards Throttle as the tan-coloured mouse stood hands on hips, smiling by the doorway.

Throttle shook his head. "Nope. Mouse's honor. We're back."

Stoker slapped Throttle on the shoulder. "Well it's sure good to have ya back! What about Earth?" Stoker looked over at Charley. "You couldn't have left it to that bucket of fishbait, Limburger?" He whirled Throttle around. "Tell me you didn't."

"Ease up Stoke, Limburger's on Jupiter." Throttle replied, holding up his hands. 

"They destroyed the transporter." Carbine interjected, "The fish faces will never set their fins on Earth again."

"I don't believe it! How did you do it?" Stoker sat down by a nearby table. "Limburger on Jupiter. I've got to hear this."

Word of Throttle and Vinnie's arrival spread. Old friends came up and welcomed their old biker buddies back to home turf. Some looked at Charley with awe, some with suspicion, but generally, she was greeted warmly and welcomed into the fold. Then the travelers heard a familiar voice. The voice they had dreaded. The voice they did not want to hear.

"VINNIE, THROTTLE, you're back. WOW! UNCLE MODO--- Hey where's Uncle Modo?" Rimfire ran into the room. "Is he outside? Uncle Modo? Uncle---?

Stoker stood up. "Yeah, where is Modo?" he inquired frowning, as he noted the big mouse's absence.

"Throttle? Vinnie? Didn't he come back with you guys?" asked Rimfire.

"I can't do this." said Vinnie, shaking his head and started to walk away, but Throttle held him back. He whispered in Vinnie's ear. "We got to, bro."

"Uh, Vinnie and Throttle were just about to tell us, Rimfire." Carbine said, looking nervously at Throttle. 

Charley went over to the young mouse. "Hello Rimfire."

"CHARLEY? What are you doing here?" the young mouse asked, slightly confused.

"I'm going to live here. With Vinnie." she replied, quietly.

"What? I don't understand. What is going on? WHERE is Uncle Modo?" Rimfire's head was on a swivel, trying to look in all corners of the room. "Is he still on Earth? He's all right, isn't he?"

"Let's sit down, Rimfire." Charley said soothingly as she tried to guide him to a chair.

"I'm sorry Charley, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm so glad you're here." He looked over at Vinnie, then turned back to Charley. "This is great, but Vinnie looks funny. It has to do with Uncle Modo, doesn't it? Charley, please tell me, where is Uncle Modo? Why isn't he here with you?"

More of the soldiers and citizens came into the hall, as word of the bikers' arrival continued to spread. The backslapping and handshaking that had occurred previously on the sands repeated themselves in the cavern. For a few brief minutes, good wishes and welcome backs suspended Modo's absence, and what was it like on Earth. But more importantly, just who is this strange Earth woman?"

"Yeah, our baddest mammajammers are back and they brought this lovely bike jockey with them. They were---" started Stoker over the noisy crowd.

"_NEVER MIND THAT, WHERE IS UNCLE MODO_?" Rimfire yelled, his eyes flashing. "_SOMEBODY IN HERE BETTER TALK TO ME_."

Charley, who was holding on to Rimfire, was scared into another lifetime and the room jumped at the harsh sound of Rimfire's young voice. Throttle went over to him and placed his hand on the lad's shoulder. "He didn't come back with us, Rimfire. He went to Saturn." Throttle began quietly.

"Saturn? What's he doing on Saturn? Why would he want to go to Saturn? Something's wrong. Something you're not telling me. I want to know what happened, Throttle? Tell me. _TELL ME NOW!_" He grabbed Throttle by the lapels and screamed into the older mouse's face.

"Cool your jets, kid. Let the mouse talk." Stoker said, as he pulled Rimfire off Throttle. "Now, what did happened out there, Throttle? Let's hear it. What's the story with Modo?" asked Stoker as he held the struggling Rimfire around the waist.

Charley spoke up. "He fell in love, Rimfire."

"Excuse me?" Stoker dropped Rimfire, whirled around, and faced the Earth woman.

On the floor, Rimfire looked stunned. "Fell in love? Fell in love with _WHAT?_" 

The Earth woman sighed and helped Rimfire to his feet. "Okay, let's try this again. Maybe we all better sit down. This will take awhile."

"How long is 'awhile'?" asked Rimfire impatiently. "When will I find out about Uncle Modo?"

"It's long" replied Charley. "Long, beautiful and sad. But, you need to hear the whole story. You have to listen, Rimfire." Charley turned and went over to Vinnie, who was standing in a corner, with his arms folded. "We have to tell them. We might as well do it now. Please Vinnie, help me?"

The white mouse just stared at her. He could see that she was near tears, and he just wanted to put his arms around her. 

"Please, my love." Charley begged.

Vinnie felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"I don't like this either, bro, but Rimfire's got to hear it. He's got to tell his mother and grandmother too. It's gotta be straight." Throttle solemnly reminded Vinnie.

Vinnie peeled himself off the wall and all three faced the others. All eyes were on them. It was as if Mars had come to a halt. Every mouse wanted to know what happened to Modo. What happened to one of the bravest mice in all of Mars? Charley took Vinnie's hand, then Rimfire's and walked over to a large table. Rimfire, again calm, hopped up on the table, as did Vinnie. Throttle sat down next to Carbine and Stoker. Charley sat on the other side of Rimfire. The crowd in the room, some finding chairs, gathered around the table.

"Where do we start?" asked Vinnie sadly.

"How about at the beginning." Carbine replied, dryly.

Throttle began. "It started when that fish face Limburger sent for The DarkRider to take us down---"

The others gasped. The DarkRider was a name that was legend. A name scared adult mice and mouselings alike. Martian cemeteries were filled with his kills. Many of the mice in this very hall were missing family members because of the DarkRider. Many of them remembered the day, they first saw him on Tharsis Ridge astride his black motorcycle, shotgun in hand after he had completed the assigned mission he was sent for. How ominous he looked just before he had been beamed off the planet.

"But," Charley picked it up from there. "This story is really about the DarkRider you _don't_ know about, Memphis Rhyme. And, it's about our Modo, who fell in love with her. And, how _she_ liberated Earth from the Plutarkians."

The crowd began to murmur among themselves. 

'What? The DarkRider is--- A she?'

'Modo fell in love with an assassin?'

"He killed Plutarkians?"

'What is this all about?'

"All right, all right, _YO! SHUT IT!_ Let's hear this. It's important." Stoker said, taking control by holding up his hands, but somewhat shaken himself.

The congregation quieted down and the three told their tale of their last days on Earth.

__

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

*STAVE TWO*

~Tethys~

Modo looked around him. He was in the heart of Tethys City - Memphis Rhyme's refuge. Tethys was a megatropolis in the southern region of Saturn. It was a peaceful and beautiful city, although it was teeming with millions of inhabitants. Creatures from all parts of the galaxy had settled in this city. Modo had even seen a couple of Martian Biker Mice cruising through the streets, as he rode around the city center. He rather enjoyed the ten-cent tour in the mid-day sun. The big mouse stopped on the outskirts of a large, lush park. He got off his bike, sat on a bench and surveyed the surroundings. Beautiful, tall buildings ringed the park. They had to be 100 stories or more. One tall building, at least 250, because it towered over all the others. Gardens of flowers and greenery rained down from its terraces. Modo had never seen such tall buildings in his life. Not even in Chicago. 

Spotting an old tavern on the corner, Modo, suddenly felt thirsty. He walked over, started up his bike and rode across the street. The tavern looked like something out of one of the old western books Charley had. And, it was so dark inside. It took him a few minutes for his one good eye to adjust from the brightness outside to the darkness within. When he could focus, he went over to the bar and chose a seat in front of the barkeep The barkeep, who must have been as old as the tavern itself, stood wiping down the counter as looked up, smiled asked "Wha's ya ples'sur, yun' fella?"

"Uh, do you have root beer?" Modo asked

"Ne'er 'ear o' it. Wha's it made o'?"

Modo laughed, "Haven't a clue, so give me whatever you got."

The barkeep poured out the darkest liquid, Modo had ever seen, into a glass mug. "'Ere ya go yun' fella."

Modo looked at the glass, then looked at the bartender. "If this is your idea of a joke, I would think again, if I were you." He held the mug up to the light, and peered through it. "This crap looks like motor oil."

"Well it ain' no moto oil, but it be jus as dedly. Ya be lookin' like a gunslin'er, now. If ya are, den ya be 'aving no tro'ble wit it."

But, he wasn't a gunslinger. Just a plain Martian Mouse. Modo Mouse, A widower. _'But,'_ he thought, _'when in Rome---' _He sucked in his breath and downed the brew. For a second or two, he felt nothing, then it kicked in. Modo thought all his insides were on fire and he gripped the edge of the bar, fearing his legs would give way. After a few minutes or so, the feeling was abated, and the after taste, once his sense of taste returned, was fairly pleasurable.

"Whoa, what is this stuff?" Modo asked, shaking his head to clear it. He held the mug up to the barkeep for another.

"Pride o' da 'ouse." The barkeep refilled the mouse's glass. 

"It's got some kick, but it's pretty good." Modo downed it in two draughts, noticing that it tasted better the second time around.

"Ah, ya is a gunslin'er. A stron' 'un, too. I'd be swearin ya'd be on da flur by now. Whe'r ya frum, fella?"

"Mars."

"Mars, huh? Yea, I be seein sum o' yo kin 'roun. Well welcum to Tethys, yun' Martian. I be call Noon; dis 'ere's my 'stablishmen, Noon's Ancien Tav'rn. Dat's wha I be callin' it. 'Ow lon' ya inten to be 'ere?"

"Name's Modo, and I don't know right now." Modo took the hand that was offered in greeting.

"Got a place to stay, yun' Modo?"

"Uh, yeah, this place." Modo handed a piece of paper, with Memphis' seal, over to the barkeep. "It belongs to my wi er, friend from Venus. I'm gonna stay there for awhile. Where can I find it?"

"Well, righ 'ere, son. Dat tall buil'in down da street. Can't miss it. Tell da conce---concie---uh, tell da guy at da desk, dat I sen' ya." Noon scribbled on the paper. "Ya fort'nate to 'ave a place dere. Ya mus' be un 'ell of a gunslin'er, or ya frien' was. On'y gunslin'ers live dere. Da badda da gunna, da betta da space, kno' wha' I be mean'in? Ya is on da top flur. Da's be pre'ty good in my book." Noon looked at Modo curiously, then continued.

"Yep, gunnas, mercenaries, hiras, dey all live dere. Dey like to cum down 'ere an a let off steam, ya kno'. Don' be gett'n me wrong, I don' allow no gunfire in 'ere. Ya cum in 'ere, ya eat, drin, or wha'eva. Ya' a'ways welcum, if ya don' ruint my place."

Modo retrieved the paper. "Thanks. How much?"

"S'cuse?" asked the barkeep.

"For the drink, how much?"

The Old Soul could see this mouse hadn't a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. "Pshaw, on da 'ouse t'day, yun' Modo." Noon replied. "Like I be sayin', welcum to Tethys."

Modo started to protest, but silently heaved a sigh of relief, since he had absolutely no money. 

"When ya fine sum work, ya pays me for food. Stron un like ya will fine work soon. Ya be markin' my words."

"Thanks, maybe I'll see you later. "Modo smiled and got up slowly from his seat.

"Sure nuff, my yun' frien' Modo. Sure nuff."

Modo went out into the sun, jumped on his bike and rode down the street to the stately building.

~ ~

The concierge recognized the mercenary seal right away and showed Modo to the private elevator. Memphis' apartment was the only one on the floor, and when the lift doors opened, he gasped. It was white. All white. The walls, the floor, the furniture. All white. On the wall in the front hall, from a strange looking rack hung one of her black mercenary uniforms. It looked like a painting, silently waiting for her to return and suit up. Inside a glass table, on the opposite wall, were her Venusian equalizers, bright silver in their black holsters, and a large knife in a silver scabbard. Above the table hung two swords, with the same silver scabbard and hilt. He remembered her words on the day they were married. 

_They will be yours and will everything else I own. Take care of them and yourself. _

It was as if she knew she would never come back here again. 

He parked his bike in the foyer near the lift and walked down the long main hall that ran through the house. He tried to envision her walking through the halls, in this spacious apartment, as she waited for her next assignment. Her aura was everywhere. Modo spied a garment flung over a chair in the rear hall. He picked it up and held it in front of him. It was long and sheer.' _She wore this?'_ He closed his eye and tried to form an image of her, of his Memphis, floating around this apartment, wearing this dress. He put it up to his nose and inhaled deeply. Her scent was strong and sensual. Her scent was in every stick of furniture, in every wall, in every piece of fabric, and on him. Now this place was his. As he breathed in her air, he felt, or thought he felt, her arms go around him, her soft kiss on his shoulder. He started, _'I must be dreaming. Memphis isn't here. Memphis is dead.'_

Then he felt something real, a soft breeze, coming from another long hall. He turned a corner of the hall where white gauzy curtains billowed in from an open door. He walked through, and there it was, her garden. Her garden of peace and tranquillity. Bamboo trees and gravel. A table, chairs, and flowering plants he had never seen before. A large scope stood near the railing. He went over to the railing and looked over the side. He could barely see the street. Then, as he looked out into the bright glare of the sun, he saw what he didn't want to see. He saw the shadowy outline of Jupiter. A sob caught at his throat, as he pulled up a chair, sat and stared at the planet. He sat, until dusk, holding the dress, and stared at that foreboding, but beautiful planet until Jupiter became a bright moon in the dark sky. He closed his eye again and formed her image in his mind.

__

I will always love you, Modo. 

"I will always love you too, darling." He said dreamily, then sat up with a start. "Memphis?" He got up and walked quickly into the apartment. But saw nothing. He found a light switch, flicked it and soft light permeated the hall, turning the room into a soft ivory color. "Memphis? Are you here? Oh mama, please be here." He passed a mirror and looked at his reflection. What stared back at him was a sad, broken mouse. And now he was hearing things. _'What's the matter with you, Modo? There is no one here but you. Snap out of it, mouse!'_ He began to walk through the rest of the apartment, from room to room. He stopped by a room that looked like a den. On the desk were photos of Albvia, Moribian, Pike and the Hound, her old crew. There was one of her with Moribian and Albvia. He picked it up, looked at it for a moment, placed it back on the desk and continued his tour. He reached the room he had been looking for, her bedroom. Her beautiful white bedroom with her spacious white bed. He thought about the love they made back on Earth, and the love they could have made on that bed. Modo couldn't move he just stared at that bed, like he stared at Jupiter. _'Get a grip, Modo, get a grip.'_ He started to sweat and feel dizzy, _'I need some air.'_ He turned to go back to the terrace, but his legs began to buckle. He gripped the doorjamb for support, but everything went black, as he hit the floor with a thud. 

~ ~

The sun was shinning on his face, when he woke the next morning. He was stiff, cold and hungry. _'Oh mama. What happened? I've never blacked out in my life. Well maybe once, after falling in Limburgers toxic goo. But, besides that---'_ He struggled to his feet, and stretched his back. Every muscle in his body was atrophied. He needed food and he needed a shower. Modo had never worried about showers before. He chuckled to himself, remembering how Charley used to cringed and insist that he, and Throttle and Vinnie hosed themselves down, at least once a month. But, in this white, pristine apartment, he felt dirty and alienated. He found the bathroom and stripped. Like himself, his clothes reeked. Memphis once told him that management would take care of all your needs, no matter what creature you were. All you had to do was call and they would get new clean clothes, delivered to your front door. Just use the intercom in the bathroom. 

Modo stepped out of the shower, and walked naked to the front hall. There in the lift were his new brand new clothes, all in black leather. Helmet, coat, pants, gloves and boots. A note was secured to the coat. _Welcome, we will honor your every wish. As long as you pay, you can stay. The management._ "Yeah, right." Modo said to himself, as he threw the card in the ash can standing next to the lift doors. He returned to the bedroom, and began getting dressed. Though the clothes were, indeed, a perfect fit, they weren't the kind he would normally wear. Now, he had to get some food. Unless there was some in the kitchen, he would have to bargain with Noon, since he had no money. _'Great Mouse Ears. How am I going to get money?'_ Modo shuddered, realizing that he had to get---_'oh this hurts'_---a job. 

He heard a beeping sound, but didn't know where it was coming from. He searched around until he found the intercom beeping in the kitchen. He pressed the button and a frightened female creature appeared on the little screen. Her lips were moving, but he couldn't hear her. He saw a button that said listen and pressed it.

** Please, please help me! ** 

"Beg pardon?" Modo said into the box.

** I want to hire you.** The frightened female repeated.

"Hire me? Hire me for what?"

** He's going to kill me. The man in the tavern told me you were the best. He said--- **

"The best what?" Modo asked, confused.

**--- you would help me. Please. I need help! **

"Ma'am, I don't---"

**PLEASE! ** She replied frantically, now close to hysteria.

"I'm not a---"

Suddenly the female dug in her pouch and held six gold droyets up to the monitor. "I can pay. I have money. I can get more. You must help me. You're my last hope. Please. _PLEASE!!!!!!_"

Modo sighed. He never could resist a damsel in distress. That's what got him into this situation in the first place. In a direct tone, he answered. "Uh, all right. Look, I'll meet you in the tavern. Just take it easy, okay?"

** Oh, thank you. Thank you! I'll wait for you there. Thank you. THANK YOU! ** The hysterical female rang off.

Modo leaned his head against the intercom. _'Oh, mama. Why did I do that? Is your son stupid, or what?'_ he thought to himself. _' I'm not a hired gun.'_ He made a mental note that a few choice words for Noon would be forthcoming, and that he do not intend to become a mercenary. He would get money some other way. He just wanted to live quietly, peacefully, in Memphis' space, and figure out what to do next. He just wanted to be left alone. But, having told the female that he would meet her, he sighed and finished getting dressed. And, in leaving the building, Modo Mouse embarked on his first mission as a hired gun.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

*STAVE THREE*

~The Mercenary~

Three years later ~ 

Ming Song was a young brash warlord in Prima City, a small, dusty and corrupt town on Titan, a Saturnian moon. He owned just about everything on the South side of the city, including the police and the City Council.

Drell, another young warlord, owned the North side of Prima City. He too, has had his share of police and bureaucrats on the payroll. There was bad blood between the two - very bad blood. Many a night, honest citizens had to run for their lives as the two factions shot it out in the streets. Newspaper editorials screamed for something to be done, as innocent people were needlessly killed as a result of the blood rivalry. But, the police would just look the other way. Drell desperately wanted Ming Song's side of Prima City, and to become Premier Warlord. Therefore Drell had to be dealt with, but Ming was rapidly losing the battle. He had heard about a lone gunman, a good one, working out of Saturn. Some new guy from off planet, a Martian outlander.

~ ~

Ming leaned against the mantle of the grand fireplace in his mansion, holding a glass of Titanian port, and staring at his guest. The seven-foot outlander dressed in tight black jeans, and a long black leather coat, stood across the room from Ming. Under a charcoal tee shirt, the well-formed muscles of the Martian's chest were quite visible. In one of his large pancake ears, he sported a gold ring and a tiny diamond. A silver flask, attached to a leather thong, hung around his neck. An eye patch covered his left eye, and the right one glowed red, almost as red as his antenna. Two silver Venusian equalizers, that bore the crest of a long ago and famous mercenary, were strapped on either side of his hips. In place of his right arm, the outlander wore a laser cannon, small but lethal.

"I have a little problem," proposed Ming as he looked into that glowing red eye, "Help me and I'll pay you handsomely. Say five million gold droyets?" 

"And the problem is?" The outlander asked in a deep, soft tone.

"A low-life named Drell. Works out of the North side. He wants my business." Ming replied lazily, slowly refilling his glass. " I intend to own this city, Therefore---" he trailed off with a slight smile and raised an eyebrow.

"Your life story doesn't interest me." The outlander replied huskily, slightly cocking his large head to one side, "Let's see the money."

"You don't trust me?" said Ming, his smile widening.

"No." replied the outlander in that same soft tone.

"Hey, boss." One of Ming's guards shoved a gun barrel beneath the stranger's face. "Shall I show this marmoset the door?"

"You take a great chance talking to me this way, Outlander." Ming said coldly, but still smiling. "I have had men killed for less."

The Martian slowly, almost leisurely, folded his arms across his chest and steadily looked down at Ming.

Ming threw his head back, slammed the decanter down, and laughed, "I admire your bluntness, Outlander. I like a man, er, mouse", Ming said, raising his glass, "who doesn't trust me. Leave him alone, Harvey." Ming waved the guard away, placed his glass down and walked over to a far wall in the room. The wall was a floor to ceiling trompel' oeil mural. Ming pressed a button in a commode near the wall, and it parted, exposing a cavernous back room that doubled as a walk-in safe. It was fronted by a large electron-charged steel gate, and behind that were twenty crates. Each crate held a hundred million gold droyets. "Your money is there, Sir." Ming pointed at the crates; "Do we have a deal?"

The Martian walked over to the gate, and touched it. As he did, he felt a slight shock. He looked up at the ceiling and then down to the floor. "We have a deal." He said in a soft monotone.

"But," Ming continued, "I must see proof of your labors, sir. I want Drell's head, is THAT clear? No body, No deal." he said emphatically, as he forced to follow the big mouse as he strode into the hall. "That mus t be part of the deal." somewhat chagrined at being left behind.

"The head is yours." The outlander stated matter of factly.

"And when may I expect the deed to be done?" inquired Ming impatiently as the outlander opened the door.

"When you see his head." was the throaty reply, "Goodnight." The mouse walked out the door into the night.

Harvey closed the door behind the fading form of the outlander. "That's a lot of gold to give this mouse, isn't it, sir?"

"Yes, it is a lot of gold, and I'm not really ready to part with it." Ming replied slyly, but with a thoughtful look on his face. "But I have no choice." He turned to his guard. "YOU seem to have trouble erasing Drell from this moon. You and those Keystone Kops, that I have to pay off every month, are useless. I should have offered him YOUR job, Harvey!" Ming spat out loudly and venomously. At this, the young guard bristled, but Ming continued. "This mouse can do the job. He's got that look. However, this Martian is no one to fool with. He's a dangerous creature. I'm well aware of his type. For money, he'll kill anything that moves, yet he has scruples. His type works alone. No one owns him. And unfortunately," continued Ming as he placed his hand on his chin, "he can't be bought." Ming paced the outer hall. "Perhaps offering five million droyets _WAS_ a bit hasty."

"We can take him out when he delivers the goods, sir." suggested Harvey, seething.

"Hmmm. "Good idea. Keep tabs on him." Ming pointed at his guard, "When the deed is done. Get rid of the hunter. If I don't see _HIS_ head, I better not see _YOU!_"

"Leave it to me, sir." said Harvey sheepishly.

"That I shall. "Ming replied quietly, as he turned and looked out the window. "And don't disappoint me."

~ ~

Later that evening, Ming Song stood in his large smoking room amid the corrupt City Council and police captains. The group had just finished a fine dinner and now enjoying some of Ming's rare Titian port. Ming Song regularly assembled these little soirees for the bureaucrats, both to insure their allegiance to him, and to introduce any new members to Ming. "Align yourself with me and you will be wealthy beyond your imagination." was Ming's motto.

"I want to thank you, Mr. Song, for helping me with that little problem of my daughter's." a council member raised his glass in salute, "That Uranium scum just wouldn't leave her alone." he continued with a little bow, "I am in your debt." 

"You are already in my debt, Councilman. Now just even more so." answered Ming with a wide grin as he walked over to the table. "Shall we begin our meeting?"

In the center of the smoking room was a wooden table. The table was large enough to seat forty-four people. A number of computer consoles were at the head of the table so that Ming could routinely check personal security and business dealings on Saturn. Above the table was an electrified skylight. And, past the skylight, the brightly lit ringed planet of Saturn, and three of its nine moons, could be seen in the distance. The Council scrambled to find their seats as Ming sat in his large, overstuffed leather chair and began to activate his consoles. As he monitored the comings and goings of his assets, he half listened, as the members in front of him complained about the various news editorials, the church and other factions who would stand in their way of making more money. The Deputy Mayor was worried and loudly complained about Drell. It appeared that the North-sider had taken to leaving little 'calling cards', like dead pets, in the Deputy Mayor's front yard. Apparently, this was to serve as an "incentive" for the Deputy Mayor to throw his influence to the North side faction. 

"My son's little kuzet was ripped to shreds." the DM yelled in a rage, AND he left it on my doorstep, WHERE I COULDN'T POSSIBLY MISS IT." The DM tried to get control of himself. "I thought you said this problem would be solved." he finished as he wiped the sweat from his face, already covered by a red, angry flush.

"Relax, my dear Councilman." Ming said calmly, as he gestured for the angry little man to sit, "The problem will be solved. And, it may be solved this very evening." Ming leaned back in his chair and smiled as all eyes turned to look at him quizzically.

~~

The front door finally closed on the last of the 'guests'. After he turned out the hall lights and entered the front room, Ming turned to check his wall safe, as was his nightly custom. Everything appeared to be normal. _'Drell will soon be history, and so would the hunter.'_ Ming smiled at the thought, heaved a pleasurable sigh and poured himself a glass of port. He sat before the quietly crackling fireplace, still smiling as he lazily swirled the Port around in his glass, confident, secure and planning on how he was going to milk the North side dry. He was a happy Titanian. The North side was as good as his. That moronic council would be further groveling at his feet. And, the ever more moronic police department can't touch him. _'Life is so wonderful.'_ He thought as he sank deeper into the sensuous feel of the leather. He took another sip and closed his eyes. 

He suddenly opened them again, as he discerned a soft sound in the distance. A very soft sound. Almost like a, well, barely audible "clink." Ming sat up suddenly as the sound repeated itself. A clink. No, a ping. No, definitely a clink. Ming, alarmed, was on his feet as he heard a scraping sound. Like something rubbing against something else. Ming instinctively knew that there was someone in the house. He pulled his pistol from its shoulder holster and cautiously entered the darkened hallway. His foot struck something as he turned a corner. A bundle of some kind. No, two bundles, and the floor was wet and sticky. He touched the hall switch, and looked down. It was Drell. Drell's severed head to be precise. Next to it lay Harvey's head. A surprised look on its face. The warlord gasped and backed up against the wall. "Wha---" He started to call out, but then realized he would alert the intruder. Who in the entire galaxy could enter his house unnoticed? His security force was the best and the most expensive there was. They were ex-army, trained to kill. He slowly, cautiously entered the smoking room, hugging the wall with his back every step of the way. He didn't need to turn the lights on since the moon beyond the skylight illuminated the entire room. He quickly checked the consoles. No one on the grounds. Some of his men were still at their posts, that was all. He heard that soft clink again. Now he knew what the sound was and it and where it was coming from. He walked quietly to the billiard room, and slowly opened the door. The overhead light shone softly down the table. There, playing a solitary game of pool, was the outlander. 

The Martian mouse landed the eight ball into the left corner pocket, and without looking up, said in a bored tone. "You have your head, Mr. Song, and a small bonus. Payment is forthcoming, is it not?"

"How--- how did you get in here?" Ming whispered. "You're supposed to be---"

"Dead?" The mouse countered, as he returned the pool cue to its space on the wall rack and turned to face Ming. "Harvey's not very good at his job, is he? Neither is the rest of your band of thugs." He picked up the cue ball and playfully tossed it up and down in his hand.

It was then that the crime lord looked around the room. Littering the floor were the bodies of his inside security force. Quickly Ming back-pedaled in a panic and slyly reached for a button that was hidden in the door jam.

"Um-m-m---may I put a deal to you, sir." he said to the mouse as he pressed the button, trying to keep his voice calm.

"We already had a deal, Mr. Song." the outlander softly growled, as he took a step towards Ming.

"You misunderstand me, sir. I would like you to work for me." Ming cleared his throat as he felt alarm welling up inside him; "You have done a good job, clean and swift. I could use a hunter like you. You could replace Harvey, as my number one man. I was going to get rid of him anyway. And I will pay you more money than you have ever made in all of your, uh, your life." Ming finished, as he again pushed the button.

"I work alone, Titanian." the mouse said quietly as his tail swished back and forth behind him.

The remainder of Ming's security force, equipped with laser shotguns and infrared heat-seeking glasses, ran in from the outside and filled the room. Once he was surrounded by his remaining army, Ming straightened and smugly replied, "Sir, you are in no position to bargain."

The mouse snorted as he rolled the cue ball around in his hand. "I'm not bargaining."

"Men, remove this trash from my ho---!" Ming Song began as he fell to the floor with a thud, the cue ball buried in his skull. A pool of blood slowly spread from underneath his head, as his eyes stared lifeless up at the ceiling. 

At first stunned, the guards then began shooting, firing indiscriminately. The gray mouse lithely jumped on top of the pool table, pulled his twin Venusian equalizers from their housing and returned fire. The first five men closest to the table were dispatched with ease.

"This damn mouse is not to leave this house alive." Skies, one of the armed guards, yelled. "Take him down._ NOW!!!!!_" The gang took up position and fired upon the table. The air filled with bullets and casings. Some of the men fired lasers that criss-cross the path of the bullets. One of the laser beams caught the hunter in his right thigh. He fell off the table and rolled on the floor, pointing his weapon towards the ceiling and shooting out the overhead light. Plunged into darkness, Ming's men never missed a beat. They switched into infrared mode and searched around the room. The hunter kept low under the pool table and remained still, ignoring the pain as it ripped through his leg and watched with his one good eye as the guards tried to locate him through his body heat. Two of the men knelt down and peered under the table. The hunter rolled over again and fired both guns once, and the guards joined Ming and their fallen comrades on the floor.

"He's under the table, get him!" Skies yelled. The hunter rolled from under the table and stood up. A guard felt his presence; "I got 'im! "I got---!" He barked, just as the mouse let go of a karate chop with his bionic arm, thereby snapping his neck. The guard pitched forward, knocking into his partner, who started, fired his weapon and mistakenly took out two of his own men.

"Where is he? Where---?" The room suddenly lit up with a bright, white flash. The hunter had pulled a grenade from under his coat and lobbed it onto the pool table. In the flash of light, he dispatched more of Ming's men.

"DAMMIT. KILL HIM! What's wrong with you worms? TAKE HIM OUT!!!!!"

"Skies, he's not in the room." Exclaimed one of the guards, as heads quickly turned left and right in alarm.

"Whadda mean he's not in the room? I'm at the door! No one went past---"

There was silence. 

"Skies, Skies, SKIES, ANSWER ME!!!"

A guard screamed.

"What--- what is it?" asked another. 

The guard screamed again. 

"Hell, I am out of here."

"What in Titan is going on?" asked another guard

"Oh Zeus, it's his head. I stepped on his head. Skies' head!"

"What?"

"His head. IT'S HIS FRIGGING HEAD, man. I am gone!" the guard screamed, as he bolted through the door.

"That's it." Another guard yelled. "Let's go! GO, GO, GO!"

The army of men backed up like a herd and ran out of the billiard room. They ran out of the mansion. The outlander tore off a piece of cloth from one of the dead guard's uniforms, tied it around his thigh and quietly limped into the front room. He went straight to the commode, and pressed the hidden button. The painted wall opened. The hunter pointed his bionic arm towards the gate and fired. It blew open showering sparks and heated metal. He grabbed one of the chair cushions and threw it in the direction of the money room. The pillow immediately disintegrated as it passed through the electronic field surrounding the shattered gate. He pointed his bionic arm into the room for a second time and fired at each of the twenty crates. They exploded, and gold droyets spewed into the front room. The outlander hunkered down and scooped up five million of the money and left just as the Prima City police were arriving.

~ ~

Modo sat in a corner of Noon's Ancient Tavern in Tethys City, a bottle and a half-filled glass before him. His leg was throbbing. The laser didn't do that much damage, but he wouldn't be dancing for awhile. He laughed to himself. _'Yeah, like I really dance.'_ That job in Prima City was sloppy. He took a long swallow of his drink, and poured himself another. He'd been drinking a lot lately. _'Oh, mama.'_ he thought, and shook his head _'Modo, Modo, what's happened to you, bro?'_ He clasped his hands and put them to his forehead. _'Memphis wouldn't want this. She was giving up this life. She just wanted to live peacefully. Brother, this ain't living peacefully. This ain't living at all.'_

A female Saturnian, with yellow cat-like eyes, walked up to his table. Modo felt her presence and looked up. He had seen her before in this place. She stood before him wearing an opalescent, body-hugging jumpsuit, which flared into some light filmy material at her wrists. She wore a copper coloured headband across her forehead, studded with gold stone, which complimented the colour of her long bronze-coloured hair. Her movements were light, soft and airy. She gave the impression of being more a creature of dreams, rather than of waking. "May I look at your hand?" she asked, as she offered her own.

"Why?" Modo asked simply

"To see your future, my friend. Your face tells me some. Your palm will tell me more." the Saturnian replied as she quietly met his gaze and held it.

He really didn't give much stock to this palm reading stuff, but he felt like he could use the company. For the first time since Memphis' death, he didn't want to be alone. He motioned to a chair and the Seer sat down. Modo removed his glove and she gently took his hand in her own.

"You are in such pain, my friend. So much pain. It's unbearable." she began, as a soft frown developed between her forehead.

"Yeah, I hurt my leg." Modo flatly replied.

She held Modo's hand gently, and traced his long lines with her fingertips. "I do not mean your body, my friend. I mean in your heart. You are in much pain in your heart. It's been a long time, and still you are not healed. The woman you loved, her sense of being fills your whole body." 

Modo started. He had never mentioned Memphis to anyone. 

"But you will recover, my friend." she continued. "There are those who wait for you. Waiting to help ease you out of your loss."

He thought of Rimfire, Throttle, Vinnie and Charley, his mother and his sister. He laughed to himself. _'You should see your son, now, Mama. You should see your son.'_ He heard they were still fighting the wars at home. He should be there, but he's no good to them now. They wouldn't be happy with the life he had chosen, either. His days, as a member of the resistance, were over. 

The eyes of the fortuneteller never left his hand as she continued her narrative. Modo finished his drink. "You will never truly love another, but you will find a mate." She looked up at him. "You will be happy and you will have issue. But, not here. Leave this place, my friend." Her yellow eyes, glancing up from his hand, were bright. "You do not belong here. This is not the life for you. You belong on the red sands. You will find peace and happiness on the red sands."

"No, I won't go back there." Modo insisted."This is my home now. It's better that I stay here."

"Why?" She asked. "What good will it do you?" The seer looked at him closely. "_She_ is not coming back."

"I know that." Modo sighed and lowered his head. "I know she's not coming back. I can't--- I just don't want---"

"This is not the place to heal, my friend." She looked down at his hand again. "You will go insane if you do not leave this place. Go home. Go home to the red sands."

Modo removed his hand from hers. "This is my home. This is my life now." He said in a tired and resigned voice. He stood up, and drew a gold droyet from his pocket and threw it on the table. "Thanks." He turned and left.

The young woman looked at him as he walked away. "You _WILL_ go insane, my friend," she repeated softly to herself. "If you do not leave this place."

~ ~

The multi-colored planet of Jupiter hung low over the horizon. Modo slumped down, with fatigue, in a chair and closed his eye. He was happiest here. This was Memphis' garden. He felt her presence here, more so than in any other part of the house. She would talk to him. He could see her walk through the house. She would smile. And, he would find peace. He got himself a drink and decided to spend the night out in the garden, since the night was warm and clear. He could stare at Jupiter and dream of his wife. Instead of hearing Memphis voice, he heard the fortuneteller's.

__

You will go insane, if you don't leave this place. Go home. Go home to the red sands. 

He snorted and drained his glass. She was wrong. He wouldn't go insane. He had _already_ gone insane. And, he doubted if was ever going to leave this place.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

*STAVE FOUR*

~Something Else Is On Mars~

The Martian Mouse Army and Resistance, MMAR, were holed up beneath the old Monastery, built on the side of the Elysium Rise. The Serene Monastery, founded in the dark days of Mars by Brother Pious Mouse, was large; six stories, and simply laid out. It had a few sticks of furniture, few windows, and boarded floors. It also had many hidden tunnels deep with the bowels of the Rise that led from the command center out into the desert.

In the early days of the Plutarkian Occupation, the resistance took up residence five floors beneath the monastery, while the fishy outsiders marched into the government offices and bought them out lock, stock and mouse bait. The resistance and mouse army would roar through the tunnels on their way to repel the Plutarkian invaders. The government had turned their army on the resistance, and had convinced their minions that the Plutarkians were the best thing that ever happened to the planet. Any aspersions towards the government or the glorious Plutarkian benefactors were dealt with severely, which generally meant prison on Phobos, one of Mars' moons. Many of the resistance, army and just plain Mouse citizens were already housed there. 

The priests had rescued many Martian mouse families that were slated to serve as slaves for the Plutarkians. (The fish faces had destroyed their own world and needed others to restore their lost resources. They needed slaves to move these resources of each planet to the home world of Plutark.) The priests would bring these homeless mice down to the caverns of Elysium Rise for safety. Word of this bravery got out and an Underground Railroad was formed to this safe haven. All told, there were at least two hundred families residing in the endless lower caverns of the Elysium Rise. The upper levels, under the refectory, were reserved for the resistance, and later, the army joined them. The fish faces knew of the resistance stronghold, but they were unable to penetrate the barrier. The merging of the Martian Mouse Army and the Martian Resistance became a formidable force against the Plutarkians. And, they fought a common cause instead of each other.

~ ~

Stoker sat in front of his vidcom; its screen was divided into four frames, a frame for each resistance unit leader. The City of Brimstone had already fallen, and soon the fish faces would be marching into Forge. Forge was the last city standing on this side of the Elysium. The scaly slimebuckets somehow knew about the resistance strategies before they happened. Stoker had to ferret these moles out, before there was nothing left of the resistance. "When, I find out who you are, you spineless, tail-less snitches, I will personally remove your antenna, and feed them to ya." Stoker vowed silently. "Calipers!" he said into the monitor. "Talk to me."

**I checked all my men, Stoker. Every single soldier in my ranks. No way any of my men is a Plutarkian mole** said the General from his base in the Giant Canyon.

**Same here, Stoke** Gen. Diesel, from his position in Argyle One Basin, was downright indignant. 

Byron and Crankshaft in Nix Olympica and Hellas repeated the same mantra. **There ain't no mole in my ranks**

"You know, guys, that's the whole reason behind moles. No one knows who or where they are." said Stoker. But, the generals protested. Their ranks were clean. "That may be, but with the government---"

**What the---" said Byron. "What's going on? Brakes, Brakes, what? **

"Byron, whas' up? Byron?" Stoker looked on as Byron's face registered extreme horror.

**Wha---what are those things? _BRAKES, SCRAMBLE_---** The screen began to run and buzz.

"BYRON, TALK TO ME. WHAT'S GOING ON?" Stoker yelled into the vidcom, his Plutarkian bionic tail whipping back and forth in excitement sending sparks across the room. Calipers, Crankshaft and Diesel began to talk at once. **Stoker, what's happening? **

"That's what I'm trying to find out. Put your mice on alert. NOW!!!!"

**But---** started Diesel

"_NOW!!!!_" Stoker slammed his hand down on the keyboard and disconnected from the remaining three Generals and he enlarged Byron's frame. He saw men running with guns firing, and then large shadows. Byron turned to the screen and started to say something to Stoker. But, instead, he screamed, and dropped from view. Then a shadowy creature filled the screen, just before it turned black.

"COMMANDER!!!!" A young combat mouse, out of breath, rushed up to Stoker. "We just got word from sector seven at Nix Olympica. They're---"

"Destroyed." said Stoker quietly. He put his head in his hands. "Gone! All gone. All those mice."

"There may be some survivors, sir."

Stoker stood up. "Get Vinnie, Wheeler and Cable. Have them get a unit together now. MOVE!"

"SIR!" The young soldier snapped to and ran off. Carbine, just back from recon with her unit, rode into the center just as the young mouse ran out. He nearly knocked her down as she alighted from her bike. "Sorry, sorry---Sir, Ma'am. Sorry!"

"What's going on Stoker?" she asked as she watched the young mouse sprint to the outside.

The unit leader went over to the vidcom. "Sector seven on Nix has been attacked." He replayed the scene he just witnessed. Carbine just stared in horror. 

"What is that thing?" she asked. 

"I don't know. But you can bet it has something to do with the fish faces."

"Damn."

"Vinnie, Cable and Wheeler are going out there, to check for survivors."

The young mouse returned. "Commander, the unit is assembled."

Stoker took the cassette out his vidcom, went into the outer hall, and looked at the group assembled there. Vinnie, a hulking red mouse named Wheeler, and Cable, a young white mouse, were astride their bikes in front. Stoker put the tape into a giant vidscreen and for the second time, played the last minutes at Nix Olympica. At first, there was silence. Then a question. "Do you know what those are, sir? Do we know where they come from?"

"No to both questions." Stoker dryly replied

"Let's go find out and whip some tail." Vinnie said, forcefully.

"Be careful, hot shot. We don't know what they are, so don't take any stupid risks. I can't afford to send more mice out to save _your_ tails."

"No prob, coach." was Vinnie's cocky reply. "Let' rock 'n'---"

_"RIDE!"_ The unit finished in unison.

"Be careful out there, guys." Carbine said quietly, as the troop rode out.

"Throttle still on White Rock?" Stoker asked Carbine as they went back inside

"Yes, he should be on Phobos by tonight."

"If Nix was wiped out---"

Carbine put her hand on Stoker's shoulder. "We'll beat them Stoke. What ever they are. We'll beat them."

"Yeah, we'll beat them." he said, somewhat unconvincingly, as he stared out into the distance at the darkening horizon.

~ ~

On a high dune, over looking Nix Olympica, Cable looked through his field binoculars and surveyed the scene below. Mangled bodies and mangled motorcycles were everywhere. But, he did see some movement among the dead. "There're survivors all right, Vinnie. And I don't see any of the fish faces or sand raiders anywhere."

"What about those creatures?" asked Wheeler, looking around.

"Must have gone off. I can't see 'em" answered Cable.

"I don't like this." Wheeler said, his large ears flickering as they always did when he was excited or nervous. "Just because we can't see 'em doesn't mean they're not there."

"I'll ride in, sir. If they're there, I can draw them out." volunteered a bespectacled salmon-coloured mouse, named August. She revved up her engine, but Wheeler held her back.

"No way, Gus. No heroes here." said Vinnie sternly. "We'll go in, get the injured and get out. Let's ride, mammajammers." The older white mouse surprised himself. Ordinarily he would have roared in there and dared those creatures to come after him. 

"But---"

"No Gus. Now that Check-Up's on Phobos, you're the only medic we've got. Those mice need you."

The salmon medic shook her head.

"Let's go." said Vinnie, taking the lead.

The unit swooped off the dune and down into the valley below. Eight soldiers writhed in pain around the destroyed base. Vinnie spotted what he thought was General Byron. But, it was too late to save him. His next in command, Brakes, was crawling over to the fallen General. Vinnie got off his bike and tried to help the soldier up, but Brakes was too weak. Gus rode over, jumped off her bike and removed her helmet. She knelt down over Brakes, looked at the strange wound and then she looked at Vinnie. "I've never seen wounds like this before." She said, as she pushed her glasses up on her nose.

"Whadda mean?" Vinnie asked without turning.

Gus shook her head. "Just what I said, I've never seen wounds like these before in my life." She patted the injured shoulder on his chest. "Don't worry Brakes, you'll be all right, once I get you back to command central." She looked at Vinnie as if to say, she was lying through her teeth. This mouse wasn't going to make it. " He's lost a lot of blood." She walked up ands whispered into Vinnie's ear. "I can't do anything for him or any of them out here. We've got---" 

"VINNIE, come look at this." One of the freedom fighter's beckoned him over.

"What?" Vinnie asked as he approached the excited mouse.

The young fighter held out his hand. A wad of something was nestled in his glove. "It's all over the place. In all colors. But there seems to be more of this."

Vinnie took the wad in his hand. "It's fur."

"But not mouse fur. Not rat or Sandraider either." the young mouse responded.

"GUS!" Vinnie yelled and waved her over.

"Do you know what kind of fur this is?" Vinnie asked when the medic walked up.

She took it in her hand. "No. This is as mysterious as those wounds."

Just then a large, strangely shaped shadow darkened the landscape. As one the mice looked skyward, Cable rode up to the top of the dune and looked through his field binoculars. "Holy." he said to himself. "Vinnie, Wheeler, you'd better get up here!"

They joined him on the ridge. They didn't need Cable's glasses to see whatever it was soar up into the Martian sky, then circling back and come towards them.

"Is that what did this? Is that what killed all these mice?" Cable asked Vinnie. 

"I don't know, but let's put some distance between that thing and us." He said to the younger mouse. " Like NOW!"

Cable and Wheeler raced down the dune yelling to their fellow fighters to gather up the wounded and head out. Vinnie stayed on the rise and stared into the canyon. "What the hell are you? Where---?" He asked himself as Cable's voice rose from below.

"VINNIE! C'MON!"

"What ever you are, your hide has my name on it." Vinnie said aloud as he tore down the dune to his unit.

__

To be continued------

* edited by amice and to her I give my heartfelt thanks

note: noon, ming song, harvey, skies and drell characters belong to this author. All other character are the property of brentwood television funnies, inc.

please do not publish, sell or change this writing without permission of the author.

© 1997


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